


why'd you only call me when you're high

by hapsburgs



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/F, F/M, Modern AU, TW: Drug Abuse, tw: alcoholism, tw: death, tw: really shitty relationship dynamics, ugh so many triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5741434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapsburgs/pseuds/hapsburgs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>//modern au//</p><p>((“What the hell happened last night?” Elizabeth replies lowly, crossing her arms over her chest and stepping closer. </p><p>“Nothing.” Caroline replies, taking a slow step away from her, turning away. “Absolutely nothing.”))</p>
            </blockquote>





	why'd you only call me when you're high

**Author's Note:**

  * For [satterthwaite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satterthwaite/gifts).



> i imported this so the formatting is kind of fucked up but whatever. 
> 
> also how did i come up with this idea? do i hate myself? do i like causing myself pain? who knows
> 
> so yeah, there are a lot of trigger warnings, it's a dark fic
> 
> as always, shout out to marguerite, i hope you enjoy

        Elizabeth Bennet has only been alone with Caroline Bingley three times. Each of those times had been even more awkward than the last, filled with tense pauses and thinly veiled insults. So, needless to say, when Elizabeth walks into the restroom of a chic lounge in Camden and finds Caroline lounging by the sinks, she is less than thrilled.

        Elizabeth offers up a small, polite smile, trying to ignore how Caroline flinched violently upon hearing her enter. Now, Caroline would normally send Elizabeth a glare or murmur sarcastic comment, but instead, she just stares emptily at her for a brief second, barely acknowledging her presence.

        “Are you alright, Caroline?” Elizabeth asks after a long moment, because Caroline’s hands are clutching the sink so tightly her knuckles are bleach white, her shoulders are tense, her long, wavy strawberry hair is obscuring her face and no, this isn’t right, at all.

        “I’m fine, Eliza.” Caroline whips around suddenly, offering a trademark smirk. She turns back to the mirror, blotting at her eye makeup and her nose with a tissue. “Wonderful, in fact.”

        But her skin is icy white, and her eyes are a little red and Elizabeth quirks her eyebrows together in concern, because even though she doesn’t like Caroline Bingley, she doesn’t want her collapsing and having to take care of her, either.

        “Are you _sure_?” Elizabeth inquires, crossing her arms over her chest. Caroline exhales loudly, rolling her shoulders in relaxation.

        “Absolutely.” Caroline replies confidently, approaching her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to miss the next act.”

        She exits, brushing by Elizabeth with another smirk, and Elizabeth justs stands there for a long moment, blinking in confusion, because _what the actual fuck was that?_

* * *

         It is a truth universally acknowledged that Elizabeth Bennet hates nightclubs - especially those of the techno, rave-ish variety. But unfortunately for her, Elizabeth Bennet currently stood in the pinnacle of these types of clubs, on some side street a stone’s throw away from Elephant and Castle.

        And god, it’s so loud she can’t even hear her own thoughts. There are too many sweaty strangers pressed much too closely against her, the strobe lights are practically blinding her, and the bass is so strong she can feel it in her heart. She really should have left with Darcy an hour ago, and after taking a shot of tequila, that is what she fully intends to do, until -

         _Until_ \- 

“Dance with me.” The crowd practically parts for her, and she doesn’t know if it’s the tequila talking or not, but she just can’t take her eyes off of her. Caroline looks positively dangerous, all tight black dress and smudged eyeliner. And the look on her face - teeth sinking playfully into her full lips, eyebrow raised barely in challenge - it’s like an arrow straight through her heart.

        Elizabeth doesn’t answer, but instead takes Caroline’s outstretched hand. She doesn’t quite know why she lets Caroline lead her to the center of the dance floor, where the pandemonium is at its height. (Actually, she does - she’s drunk and Caroline’s gorgeous and Jane and Charles are curled in some private corner god-knows-where, and maybe she doesn’t want to be alone anymore).

        Elizabeth blushes in embarrassment as the crowd pushes her close to Caroline, but that flush changes into something _more_ when Caroline’s hands rest on her hips, dragging her right against her and Elizabeth practically whimpers at the feeling of it all. Caroline, however, has the nerve to laugh lowly, hands sliding down Elizabeth’s spine, grinding against her in time to the music.

        Elizabeth finally has the confidence to snake her arms over Caroline’s shoulders, allowing her forehead to press against Caroline’s and at that moment, she doesn’t process Caroline’s shallow breathing and blown pupils, not really. Instead, she focuses on threading her hand through Caroline’s messy hair, pulling her lips to hers. And Elizabeth is tentative at first, but Caroline is seemingly not in the mood for any sort of hesitance, because her lips crack open against hers immediately, and all of a sudden the kiss is rougher than expected, Caroline tastes like vodka and some kind of poison, they’re practically fucking on the dance floor, Elizabeth can’t breathe -

        And then, Caroline is pulling her through the thick crowd and into the chilly, smoky night, exhaling icy breaths as she kisses Elizabeth again, teeth sinking into the brunette’s bottom lip, and Elizabeth can’t help but groan into the kiss, sending a pleasant hum down her spine.

        The town car pulls up quickly, and Elizabeth briefly thinks about how Jane and Charles are going to get back, but then Caroline is practically throwing Elizabeth into the back seat, rolling up the partition with alarming speed, straddling her hips. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Elizabeth contemplates whether or not this is a bad idea, but then Caroline’s hands are under her skirt, and Elizabeth catchers a sight of her expensive black lingerie, and that is enough to arrest the thought for now and stop thinking entirely.

* * *

        Elizabeth wakes up to a massive hangover and an empty bed.

        She’s not particularly surprised about either.

        She takes a survey of the damage in the bathroom as she fumbles for an aspirin and a cold glass of water, head throbbing. There is no way the dark circles under her eyes can be covered by any amount of concealer, nor the blooming purple bite marks on her neck and clavicle.

        As she pulls on a sweater - _with_ a collar, since she cannot deal with Darcy’s jibes with this much of a headache - she fully intends on confronting Caroline about _what the hell was last night anyway?_

        But when she stumbles downstairs to breakfast, rubbing her eyes tiredly, Caroline is nowhere to be found. Elizabeth listens to Jane and Charles giggle and whisper much too loudly for ten minutes before breaking her silence.

        “Where’s Caroline?” She says as nonchalantly as she can manage, and Darcy smirks.

        “Weren’t you the one who came in with her last night?” He raises an eyebrow, and she shoots him as harsh a glare as she can manage.

“In her room.” Charles answers simply, chewing his cereal. “I knocked on her door, but she said she wasn’t feeling well enough for breakfast.”

At this, Elizabeth audibly scoffs because no doubt she herself was in worse shape than Caroline, and at least _she_ found the strength to drag herself down for breakfast. In fact, Caroline doesn’t even deign to make an appearance until dinner, and Elizabeth immediately begins to go back on her thought that she herself was in worse shape, since Caroline looks  awful.

Her skin is practically translucent and she looks exhausted and her eyes are dull and her hair is piled on top of her head in an uncharacteristic portrayal of dishevelment. She only picks at her dinner, and Elizabeth glances around the table, wondering why she is the only one who finds this strange.

She follows Caroline after dinner, catching up with her enough to grab her wrist.

“ _Let go of me!_ ” Caroline seethes, whipping around and yanking her arm away.

“ _What the hell happened last night?_ ” Elizabeth replies lowly, crossing her arms over her chest and stepping closer.

“ _Nothing._ ” Caroline replies, taking a slow step away from her, turning away. “Absolutely _nothing_.”

 

* * *

So yeah, that’s weird, but Elizabeth decides to forget about it, chalking the whole incident up to alcohol, stress, and opportunity.

But then, Elizabeth follows Jane, Charles, Darcy, and Caroline to some crazy EDM, dubstep-filled club in the middle of east London, and there are honestly so many people and floors Elizabeth has no idea where she’s going, and in minutes loses the rest of them.

After a few hours of lounging around the bar with her Old Fashioned and being hit on by various intoxicated, sweat-covered young men, she decides to make her exit. She passes Jane and Charles making out on a sofa in the corner on her way out, and sends them a lazy wave which they return half-heartedly.

The coat room is mercifully quiet, and Elizabeth hums happily to herself as she searches for her jacket, ready to get back home and have a nice glass of wine as she watches Graham Norton, but a muffled noise outside makes her pause.

The hallway is dark, and _almost_ deserted, if not for the giggling couple at the other end. Elizabeth recognizes the long red hair and short cobalt skirt as uniquely _Caroline_ , and the blond man with her is attractive, Elizabeth supposes, if you are into the supermodel sort of thing (on second thought, Elizabeth thinks he might play for Arsenal, but doesn’t look long enough to figure it out).

And, well, Caroline’s legs are wrapped around his hips, and one of his hands is tangled in her hair as another palms her breast, his lips attached to her neck, and with the way their hips are rolling together so forcefully, Elizabeth knows exactly what they’re up to.

She feels frozen in place, face flushing because _god this is embarrassing_  and also _fuck she’s gorgeous_ , but then Caroline moans lightly, back arching and letting her head move  to the side to offer him better access to her collarbone, and all of a sudden _Caroline is looking at her_  and she’s _smirking_  and if Elizabeth wasn’t red before, she certainly is now.  

* * *

Caroline finds her in a smoky alley outside of the club, waiting for her Uber.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Caroline smiles, sauntering forward unsteadily (which Elizabeth chalks up to booze and the rough sex she was having moments before).

“Have you?” Elizabeth replies indifferently, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms around her waist.

“Jealous?” She jokes, running a hand through her messy hair, and Elizabeth looks away.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She bites, swallowing hard when Caroline steps closer. “You can fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.”

“Sounds like you do.” The redhead hums happily, and Elizabeth shoots her a glare. “Oh, _Eliza_ , please.”

It sends a shiver up Elizabeth’s spine, because the last time Caroline called her Eliza, it was rather more authoritative and Caroline’s head was between her thighs.

She doesn’t stop Caroline, though, when she closes the distance between them, noses brushing against each other, and Elizabeth can smell the sharp scent of Caroline’s perfume on her neck.

“ _Let me make it up to you _.” Caroline whispers, leaning forward, hands against Elizabeth’s shoulders, pressing her more firmly into the wall. Now, Elizabeth  knows Caroline’s game, and this time, she is (relatively) sober enough to try to figure out just what the fuck is going on.

She narrows her eyes, taking in the ghostly, sweat-dampened skin, the shallow breathing, and, most importantly, blown pupils, the blackness swallowing up her deep blue irises.

“Fuck, are you _high_  right now?” Elizabeth asks, eyebrows knitting in concern.

“So what if I am?” Caroline smiles, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth flirtatiously and really, Elizabeth shouldn’t be attracted to this, but -

“You need to get home _now_.” She says through her teeth, ready to push Caroline away from her, but then Caroline’s hands are on hers, linking their fingers together and Elizabeth inhales sharply at her touch.

“Only if you’re coming with me.” Caroline whispers, finally closing the distance between them. It’s completely _wrong_ \- after all, Caroline is cruel, she is a  tease , she’s an addict and - and Elizabeth doesn’t know why she can’t stop.

“We have to talk about this. I mean, this is dangerous, you’re hurting yourself - “ Elizabeth protests weakly as Caroline presses kisses to her throat, fingers tightening in hers.

“Yes, why don’t you tell me all about it in the car, hm?” Caroline brushes her off, humming against her skin, and Elizabeth acquiesces, dropping the subject.

        

* * *

 

        Well, she doesn’t drop the subject _completely_ . She doesn’t know if Jane or Darcy, let alone  Charles  knows, and besides, Caroline was the mastermind behind Bingley and Bingley Investments, and something like a drug addiction would ruin her career and yes, Elizabeth may not particularly like  Caroline, but she’s not an asshole. And it’s not like they were friends (or more, she doesn’t even know anymore), it wasn’t her responsibility to get Caroline help, and you can only help people who wanted to be helped, right? And Caroline certainly didn’t want any help, she had made that clear.

        And to her credit, Caroline does a good job of hiding it. While she occasionally looks a mess, disappearing for ages at a time, her smooth words and easy smiles help convince everyone around her that nothing is wrong - that, in fact, _everything is_ _great, the business has never been better, I feel like I’m really hitting my stride_ \-  and all other charming, appeasing assurances.

So, when Caroline knocks on her door at four in the morning, eyeliner smudged and stumbling in her five inch heels, she lets her in. When the redhead sneaks into her room when she’s at Netherfield, hushing her with a kiss, she allows it. And when Caroline leaves without hesitation afterwards, she stays silent.

“Stay,” Elizabeth eventually exhales one night, the word hanging in the air for a heavy moment.

        “No.” Caroline replies simply, sitting up to perch on the edge of the bed.

        “Why not?” She peers up at her, and Caroline just raises a tentative eyebrow, clearly wondering what this is about. “You’re going to get high, aren’t you?”

        “Elizabeth-”

        “Then do it. Here. And stay.” Elizabeth can’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but it’s a challenge, and if she knows anything about Caroline Bingley, she does not pass up a challenge.

        Caroline gets up and leaves without even looking at her, and after a long few minutes, Elizabeth has all but given up on the redhead, but then, Caroline is shutting the door behind her, sauntering over to her with a smile.

        “Stay still.” Caroline orders, pushing Elizabeth’s shoulders back to hit the pillows and straddling her waist. Elizabeth swallows hard, inhaling sharply, because all of a sudden, this is too  real, too dangerous.

        The bag in Caroline’s hand is small, discreet, and filled with a questionable looking white powder. She watches carefully when Caroline pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, giving her that look that never fails to make her heart race, and to her surprise, dumps a portion of it on to her collarbone.

        “Caroline -” She protests, but Caroline shushes her gently.

        “ _Still_.” The redhead reminds her, her long red hair forming a curtain around them as she leans down, revealing the razor in her hand. Elizabeth’s eyes widen, body tensing at the chill of the knife against her skin as Caroline carefully pushes the powder together into a neat, long line.

        Caroline’s eyes do not leave hers as she places the razor on the bedside table, and Elizabeth’s not quite sure why she’s  the one breathing so fast. But god, Caroline is snorting cocaine off of her body, and while she is, of course, duly horrified and angry, she is also inexplicably turned on. And so, when Caroline looks up at her, smirking, all dark eyes and mussed hair, Elizabeth can’t help herself - she tangles a hand in her hair and pulls her down into an angry kiss, relishing the way Caroline hums against her lips and she thinks she can feel Caroline’s heart racing against hers.

 

* * *

        When Elizabeth nearly trips and falls flat on her ass at three in the morning in the upstairs hall of Netherfield on her way back from the bathroom, she is absolutely ready to kick the blasted culprit’s ass into oblivion - until she realizes the thing she tripped over is in fact a person: one Caroline Bingley.

“What the _fuck_ , Caroline?” Elizabeth quietly seethes, because Caroline is curled on the marble floor in the hallway outside of her room at three in the morning and she really doesn’t have time for this shit. Caroline murmurs something weakly in reply, her face buried in her arms, and so Elizabeth huffs a sigh of defeat, crouching to get a better look at the redhead. “Want to tell me why you’re sitting here?”

This time, nothing.

“Caroline -” She reaches for Caroline’s arm, which she promptly jerks away.

“ _I’m locked out of my room, okay?_ ” Caroline sobs hoarsely, curling further into herself like a wounded animal. “ _I accidentally locked myself out of my room._ ”

        Elizabeth gives her a look that can best be described as the equivalent of _that’s it? are you shitting me?_ But then she notices Caroline is paler than she has ever seen before, and her mascara has been smeared all over her cheeks.

        “Let’s talk about this in my room, okay?” Elizabeth acquiesces carefully, offering the redhead a hand, which she hesitantly takes. Caroline’s hand is clammy, soaked in cold sweat, and Elizabeth doesn’t think about it too much until they are safely back in Elizabeth’s room. Three steps into the bedroom and Caroline’s knees collapse, and Elizabeth manages to catch her in time before she can crash painfully to the floor.

        “I got you.” Elizabeth whispers, keeping her arm around Caroline’s shoulders as they sit against the end of the bed. “ _I got you_.”

        “ _I need to get in my room _.” Caroline whispers, and Elizabeth leans back to look at her - really  look  at her. Caroline is shaking, brow soaked in sweat, and Elizabeth can practically feel the fever radiating off of her. Her breath is shaky and she can just imagine Caroline’s heart screaming in her chest.

        “Let’s get you out of this dress first.” Elizabeth murmurs, brushing a lock of messy hair out of Caroline’s face before moving to the zipper of her short, black party dress. Caroline mumbles something that sounds like ‘don’t’, but Elizabeth presses a kiss to her temple, quieting her.

        Elizabeth had noticed that Caroline has been wearing a lot of long sleeves lately, but as she pulls down the tight black sleeves of Caroline’s dress, she finally takes in the reason why.

        “I thought it was only cocaine.” Elizabeth exhales, fingers brushing over the red and purple track marks on Caroline’s arm, livid against her porcelain skin.

        “Cocaine is only for parties.” Caroline whispers, not meeting Elizabeth’s eyes as she helps her out of the dress.

        “Heroin, then?” Elizabeth tries to keep her voice calm, but there’s a note of hysteria seeping into it as a whole host of horrid images of tourniquets and needles flash through her mind.

        “Oxy.” Caroline replies dully, and when she reaches down to take off her stilettos, her hands are trembling so hard that Elizabeth reaches out and grasps them in hers.

        “You need to get help, Caroline.” Elizabeth insists, face drawn in worry. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

        At this, the tears in Caroline’s eyes that have been threatening to spill over all night finally do, and it’s like a dam has been broken, with the flood of tears that come pouring out.

        “ _No, no_... please. _I just need to get in my room, and get my oxy, and I’ll be fine. I’m fine, really. I’m fine. I’m fine…_ ” Caroline can barely breathe over her sobs, and she breaks down into a coughing fit that makes Elizabeth wince.

        “ _Breathe_. ” Elizabeth order softly, taking her face between her hands and letting her thumbs brush the tears away. “Let’s go to bed, okay? You need rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

        She tries to settle her racing thoughts as she nestles Caroline into her bed and climbs in besides her. The redhead is shaking, still sniffling, and Elizabeth desperately tries to hide her tears as she gathers her into her arms, because Elizabeth needs to be the strong one, now, and she doesn’t know if she can, not when Caroline is going through a hell of a withdrawal in her bed, whimpering in pain and fuck, it’s breaking her heart because at the moment, there’s nothing more she can do.

        “ _Elizabeth_.” Caroline’s voice breaks on the last syllable, and Elizabeth shuts her eyes to stop her tears as she pulls the redhead closer.

        “I know it hurts.” She finally whispers into her hair. “I know it hurts more than I can possibly understand. But I’m here. _I’m right here_. And tomorrow morning, everything is going to be okay.”

 

* * *

        Caroline is still asleep when Elizabeth wakes up, and she nervously makes sure she is still breathing because _god, she’s has no idea how to possibly handle this_ before she quietly gets dressed. In the early morning light, Caroline looks thinner than ever, and Elizabeth could count her ribs one by one if she wanted to, can see her translucent skin stretched across harsh angular bones.

        When she pads softly downstairs to breakfast, Jane, Charles, and Darcy are already there, joking over pancakes, all bright and happy.

        “Good morning.” Jane smiles happily as she grabs a piece of toast, but when she gets a good look at her sister, her face falls to a frown of concern. “Oh, did you not get enough sleep? You look exhausted.”

        At this, Darcy and Charles’ conversation quiets as they watch Elizabeth take a seat, rubbing her eyes.

        “I’m fine.” Elizabeth exhales, staring dully at the bowl of fruit in front of her.

        “You’re sure you’re not ill?” Darcy asks, shifting his seat slightly away from her and her possible disease.

        “We need to talk. All of us.” Elizabeth doesn’t bother answering Darcy, because Elizabeth knows that she can handle this on her own, not anymore. “About Caroline.”

        “You’re finally going to admit to fucking her, then?” Darcy turns the page of his paper, but the harsh glare she sends him shuts him right up.

        “Caroline is not...well.” Elizabeth admits, taking a breath and shifting nervously in her seat. Darcy raises an eyebrow as if to ask if she cared to elaborate. Her eyes flick to Jane and Charles, who are both staring at her expectantly.

        “She’s an addict.” She says bluntly, before shoveling a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth to help regain her composure and save her from speaking.

        “What?” Jane inhales sharply, eyes flashing with hurt and brows drawn in confusion, dropping her fork. She turns to her boyfriend, squeezing his arm gently. “Charles -”

        “I…” He shakes his head, before tiredly rubbing at his eyes and letting out a sigh. “I’m such an idiot.”

        “You didn’t know.” Elizabeth shakes her head numbly, leaning back in her chair.

        “No, but I did!” Charles exclaims, and Elizabeth sucks in a harsh breath. “I mean, not _what_ she was up to, but I knew something was going on and…” He buries his face in his hands, shoulders tense. “God, I should have talked to her about it.”

        “She hates talking.” Elizabeth laughs sharply, humorlessly.

        “I should have _tried_.” Charles shakes his head, letting Jane run her hand through his hair. He looks up suddenly, turning to Darcy. “Did you know?”

        Darcy blinks in surprise, the only real emotion he’s displayed since the start of this ordeal.

        “My god, you did, didn’t you?” Elizabeth accuses, feeling the anger bubble in her as she watches Darcy’s eyes flick around in guilt.

        “I’d have to be blind not to.” Darcy seethes lowly, throwing his napkin on the table with force. “But I didn’t think it was any of my business-”

        “ _You didn’t think it was any of your business?_ ” Charles roars, jumping to his feet in anger, plates shaking on the table. “She’s my _sister_ , you idiotic twat!”

        “Yes, but she’s not mine .” Darcy replies firmly, voice not quite a shout. “It wasn’t my place. I didn’t know if you had it under control, or what. Besides, it didn’t ever seem like she was out of control, I had no idea how bad it actually was.” Darcy’s shoulders visibly sag, before his flaming eyes snap up to meet Elizabeth’s, who flinches in shock. “Why didn’t you do anything, then? You’re the one sleeping with her.”

        “Don’t you _dare _  pin this on me!” Elizabeth bites, voice rising. “I’ve only known her for a few months, you’ve known her for _years_! I can’t believe you let her go on this long-”

        “Everyone, just _shut up_ .” Jane is the one to stop the yelling, and at the sound of the innocent, angelic Jane Bennet telling them to  shut up , the three quiet, turning to the blonde, who is struggling to regain her composure. “What we should or shouldn’t have done is not what matters; it is what we do now.”  
        

Jane exhales, visibly relaxing, but the worry is back in her eyes. “We can all agree that Caroline needs help.”

        “I’ll go talk to her.” Charles sighs, squeezing Jane’s hand before taking a step towards the door, but Elizabeth stops him.

        “I...want to be there.” Elizabeth admits, and crosses her arms around herself nervously when Darcy scoffs. “I just...feel like I should be there.”

        “Then let’s all go, and make it one terrible intervention, shall we?” Darcy claps his hands loudly, and Elizabeth sends him a glare, about to protest, when Jane interrupts.

        “Maybe it would be better if we all went together? It would show her how we all support her.” Jane gives a pointed look to Darcy, moving to grasp Charles’ hand in reassurance.

        “I’m warning you, she’s has a bit of a rough night.” Elizabeth acquiesces as the foursome leaves the dining room and heads towards the stairs. “I mean, she’s going through withdrawal. In my bed.”

        “God, you should have led with that.” Darcy murmurs, after Charles charges by him, rushing up the stairs.

        “Where is she?” Charles asks in alarm, because Elizabeth’s bed is empty, the sheets mussed but cold.

        “She was here when I went downstairs!” Elizabeth protests, a tiny ball of fear forming in her stomach as her heart skips a beat.

        Now, everything that comes next is a bit of a blur for Elizabeth. The housekeeper peeks her head in the door, mentioning she opened up Miss Bingley’s room for her about twenty minutes ago. There is a controlled dash down the hall to the closed door at the end of the hall, which Jane knocks on for a solid thirty seconds with no answer. Elizabeth tries to control her breathing as Charles bangs harder on the door, imploring, but Darcy practically pushes him aside to slam the door open.

        She will never forget the sight in front of her, Elizabeth thinks. She had previously assumed that Caroline’s room would be immaculate, but instead, it’s a mess. There’s clothes and water bottles and mirrors and razors and syringes everywhere. And _Caroline_  - laid out all haphazardly on her bed in that expensive, frilly lingerie, not moving.

        The scream that Jane lets out is hideous, but it’s enough to spend Darcy and Charles flying into action. Charles is shaking  her, _sobbing_ , and Elizabeth honestly feels like she’s about to collapse when she hears Darcy mutter something about _not breathing_ and _overdose_ . There’s someone shouting for an ambulance, and she can’t  move. _Why can’t she move?_

        “ _She was fine a half an hour ago._ ” Elizabeth whispers to herself, still glued in place, when the stretcher wheels her out.

_“ She was fine.”_

 

* * *

         “You came in with Miss Bingley, correct?” A tall, redheaded doctor approaches the foursome in the waiting room, and Elizabeth immediately gets to her feet. God, they had been waiting for  _hours_ , Jane crying silently, Charles with his face in his hands, and Darcy’s face getting stonier by the minute. After Caroline disappeared with a team of doctors, all talking, monitors blaring, it had just been so _quiet_ for so _long_ and -

        “Is she…?” Jane can’t quite finish her question, arms wrapped around herself.

        “She almost didn’t make it.” He replies bluntly, flicking through his charts. “She crashed on the table, but we were able to get the naloxone just in time and she’s going to be fine.”

        There’s a collective sigh of relief as the doctor continues. “She won’t be able to receive visitors as she goes through detox, however. It will be...rough. And extremely painful, I’m afraid. Much worse than the withdrawal symptoms you described.” He nods gently at Elizabeth, who can feel the bile rising in her throat. “It would be upsetting for you to see. But you’ll be allowed to come back in a few days, and then, we can talk about treatment options going forward.”

        “Treatment options?” Charles’ eyebrows knit together in confusion, and he looks up, as if he has finally been woken out of this horrible dream.

        “Well, she certainly can’t keep continuing on like this. Mr. Bingley, your sister is an _addict._ She needs help, or she’ll die.” With that, he nods slightly in farewell, before turning the corner and leaving.

        Elizabeth runs outside and throws up on the sidewalk.

 

* * *

 

        “How is she?” Jane is, again, the first to speak when they return to the hospital two days later. The redheaded doctor, Hunt, looks back and forth between them for a long second.

        “Perhaps it would be best if you went in one at a time? If Charles went in first?” Hunt suggests.

        “We all support her. We all want to see her, that’s why we all came.” Jane says gently, squeezing Charles’ hand, who slowly nods.

        “Alright, then. Just letting you know, the only thing she’s said is, _‘I would rather starve than eat that processed garbage_ ’ when the nurse brought her Jello.” Hunt shakes his head as he leads them down the hall.

        “Sounds like Caroline.” Darcy scoffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they stop at the end of the hallway, in front of a large room with frosted glass doors and windows.

        “I’ll leave you all to talk.” Hunt nods, opening the door for them.

        The room is spacious, larger than an average hospital room. Large windows look out over the Thames and rows and rows of beautiful Georgian townhouses. The ceilings are high, letting in natural light, and Elizabeth silently wonders how much Charles paid to get her this amount of privacy.

        Caroline doesn’t even look towards the door when they enter, and she tenses in Charles’ arms when he wraps her in a crushing hug.

        “God, Caro, I was so _worried_ , you could have  died  - thank god you’re okay!” Charles rambles, leaning back and placing his hands on her shoulders. Elizabeth averts her eyes, because this is too personal, and Caroline looks too weak, sitting there, all disheveled strawberry waves and sharp angles and weak breathing.

        For a long moment, there is just the sound of the heart monitors beeping loudly, the foursome just _waiting_ , and then -

        “Are you done?” It’s a tone Elizabeth has never heard before; apathetic and dangerously flat with just a hint of annoyance. It cuts through the room like a knife, and she’s surprised at how strong Caroline’s voice seems to be, and it’s enough to send ice down her spine.

        “What?” Charles’ brows quirk in confusion, smiling nervously as he reaches for his sister again. “Caro -”

        “I said, _Are. You. Done_?” Caroline’s eyes finally flick up to meet his, and Elizabeth has never seen them like that before, all dark and dead. “Have you said what you wanted to say?”

        “Um…” Charles stutters, looking back at Jane and Darcy. Jane worries her bottom lip nervously, and Darcy just shrugs. “Caroline, are you-”

        “Then get out.” Caroline orders, and Elizabeth looks up at that, blinking in surprise. Charles leans back, startled, but doesn’t move. “ _Get. Out_. ”

        “Don’t be ridiculous, Caro.” Charles laughs nervously.

        “I have nothing to say to you.” Caroline leans forward, shoulders tense. “I don’t want you here, so leave! Take your simpering, foolish girlfriend with you.”

        Jane sucks in a small breath next to her, and Elizabeth feels her heart drop into her stomach, swallowing hard.

        “That is _enough_.” Darcy’s hard voice slices through the air.

        “That face of an angel hides a vapid, naive _girl _. No one in their right mind is that ignorant of the faults of others. She is _weak _ , she is such a shrinking violet that it is absolutely _nauseating _. Honestly, I thought that you had a little more self respect, Charles.” Caroline cuts, and Jane is in tears now, and Charles looks more betrayed than anything. “And don’t you  dare  think you have any right to talk to me, _Fitzwilliam _. You, with all your insults and stony seriousness, are just trying to hide your complete and utter social ineptitude and your childish bruised pride. You try to seem tough, but you’re just trying to get someone to love you.” Caroline smiles cruelly. “And, newsflash, Fitzwilliam, the only person who will ever love you is your sister, and you somehow manage to keep pushing her away, so I think your sanctimonious, uptight, unloved ass has no right to tell me how to do _anything_.”

        The silence is deafening, and Elizabeth doesn’t know where to look; at Darcy’s stunned expression or Caroline’s smug grin.

        Finally, Darcy’s face morphs from one of silent shock to masked rage. “Listen, you _selfish bitch _.” Darcy quickly crosses the room to Caroline, steps loud, and Elizabeth is impressed how Caroline manages not to look intimidated, instead glaring up at him in challenge. “I understand that you are ‘lashing out’, or whatever the fucking shrinks want to call it, but _you are dying_. Your addiction is killing you. You think you can manage all your shit through pills, fine. But you are destroying everyone and everything around you.” He leans in closer, and Caroline narrows her eyes. “We’re the only four people who really give a fuck about you, and you treat us like this.” He straightens, angrily shaking his head. “God, Caro, I do love you but I will not love you to death.”

        “ _No one is asking you to ._ ” She seethes, before finally bursting. “ _NOW GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”_

Elizabeth has no doubt that Caroline can probably be heard from down the hallway, and Darcy stomps out of the room without even looking back, dragging a crying Jane and a confused Charles with him. Charles, at least, looks back in hesitance, but Caroline’s glare makes him follow Darcy without another word.

        “And _you _ ,” Caroline manages to lean enough out of her bed to grab her wrist, and Elizabeth blinks in surprise because she thought she had managed to become exempt from this tirade. “ _I hate you _. I lie awake every night and actively, with every cell in my being, hate you. My first thought when I came to was _how much I hate you .  Never _ speak to me again. Now _leave_ before I throw the lamp on the side table at you.”

        “Please, Caroline. We all want to help you.” Elizabeth begs, trying to squeeze Caroline’s hand but she yanks away to point harshly towards the door, looking away.

        “Get _out_ , Elizabeth. Or I swear to god, I’ll kill you.” Caroline snaps, and Elizabeth takes a step back in shock.

        She looks back at Caroline, as she gets to the door, and she thinks she can see tears sliding down the emaciated redhead’s face. Elizabeth considers staying. She knows  she should stay, because Caroline needs her more than ever right now. But Caroline’s words _hurt_. They hurt more than she would like to admit, and Elizabeth -

        And Elizabeth is afraid.

        So she runs.

 

* * *

         Two months later, Elizabeth gets a call from the Kusnacht Practice, which she soon deduces is a luxury rehab center outside of Zurich, and informed that she has been added to a patient’s visitor list.

        Now, despite Elizabeth’s gentle inquiries, they do not ‘undermine the confidentiality of the patient’, but it doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to determine who said patient is. She’s surprised, because as far she knew, none of them had been in touch with Caroline. She stopped hanging around with Charles and Darcy after the incident with Caroline, and she only got bits and pieces from Jane, who had informed her that Charles rarely discussed his sister.

        And Elizabeth is at a crossroads. Since the Caroline incident, her life had kind of gone back to normal, to a time _before_ she got caught up in Caroline’s web. She ran her bookstore in North London easily and simply, continued to frequent the same coffeeshops, talked to the same people. It should have been enough, but somehow, after Caroline, it wasn’t.

        So she quietly books a ticket to Zurich.

        She is led through dark-wood parlors and immaculately kept gardens to a bench on the lawn by the lake, the wind whistling through the Alps above them, enough to make her hair fly around in the breeze. Caroline keeps her eyes on the water as Elizabeth takes a seat next to her, the nurse leaving them to their devices.

        The redhead looks better, Elizabeth thinks. Not so emaciated, a little color returning to her cheeks, her hair more vibrant. But, with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, Caroline looks _small _. All that false confidence, all that _armor_ , has been torn away leaving only the bruised and fragile skin underneath.

        “My mum died when I was eight, do you know that?” Caroline says, pulling the sleeves of her light blue jumper down over her wrists. Elizabeth doesn’t say anything, letting Caroline speak. “My father was a strict man, and he sent us away to boarding school, probably because we reminded him too much of our mother. Anyway, in my second year of uni, he stroked out. We didn’t get to say goodbye. And suddenly, Charles was the head of Bingley and Bingley Investments, and I was rushing through uni to be able to take on my part of the company and…” Caroline shakes her head, as if trying to clear her thoughts.

        “I don’t know, it was stressful. Too stressful. And drugs were there. They were there when no one else was.” Caroline finishes, shoulders rolling gently with a sigh.

        “You don’t need to explain yourself.” Elizabeth shakes her head. “Not to me.”

        “I said a lot of awful things to you.” She replies after a long moment, tucking a lock of windblown hair behind her hair.

        “Is this an apology?” Elizabeth exhales, finally looking over at Caroline, who has lifted her gaze to the brunette.

        “If you’ll take it.”

        Elizabeth laughs quietly. “I forgave you a long time ago.” At this, Caroline’s face softens, jaw relaxing and icy eyes thawing. “Why me, though? And not -”

        “And not Charles or, god forbid, Darcy?” Caroline scoffs, letting Elizabeth move closer to her. “They’re not what I need, going forward. I don’t need Darcy’s silent judgment or Charles’ fretful worrying.”

        “And you need me.” Elizabeth completes, letting a smile grace her face as she reaches out and squeezes Caroline’s hand.

        “And I need you.” Caroline admits with a small nod, the edges of her lips curling into an almost smile, one Elizabeth hasn’t seen in months.

        “Maybe we need each other.” She wraps an arm around Caroline, who easily falls against her, head resting on her shoulder, and Elizabeth privately grins at how natural it feels again to run her fingers through Caroline’s hair.

        “I’m terrified, Elizabeth.” She admits, and Elizabeth exhales, letting her eyes drift close.

        “I know. I am, too.” She admits. “But I’m here.”

        “And I’m here, too.” Caroline agrees, softly. “Well, now you’re stuck with a slutty drug addict. I hope you’re happy with your choices.” She murmurs into her skin, and Elizabeth smiles, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead before moving to whisper in her ear.

        “Oh, I couldn’t be happier.”

 

 


End file.
